Well Johnny arose on a May morning,
Caught for water to wash his hand,
Gale-louched a me,
but o'er grey dogs That lie bound in iron bands,
Bands that lie bound in iron bands.
When Johnny's mother she heard all this,
Her hands for a duel she rang,
Crying, Johnny, for your venison,
To the greenwood in a-gyang, gyang,
To the greenwood in a-gyang.
But he has t'en his good benbow,
His arrows one by one,
And he's a-walkin' to the greenwood game,
T'i-ding the dung-deer-doon, doon,
T'i-ding the dung-deer-doon.
Well Johnny shot and the dung-deer leapt,
And he wound it in the side,
And between the water and the wood,
The grey dogs laid her pride,
pride,
The grey dogs laid her pride.
Well by there come a silly old man,
And an ill-death lady,
For he's a-walkin' to Salmon,
The king's seven foresters to see,
see,
The king's seven foresters to see.
Then up and spoke the first forester,
He was a man, a-word the maw,
G'en this be jock or
bred as lay,
Unto him we will draw,
draw,
Unto
him we will draw.
Well the first shot that the forester fired,
It wounded him in the knee,
And the next shot that the forester fired,
His hair's blood blint his ee, ee,
His hair's blood blint his ee.
He's lent his back against an oak,
His foot against a stain,
And he's fired on the seven foresters,
And he's killed the marb'r'd in, ee,
And he's killed the marb'r'd in.
He's broken four o'
this man's ribs,
His hair among his collar-bane,
And then he set him on a horse,
To carry the tidings him,
him,
To carry the tidings him.
To Johnny's good Benbow lies broke,
His twa' grey dugs lies slain,
And his body
lies in mawn he must,
And his hunting days are dame,
dame,
And his hunting days are dame.